


The Sweet Mundane

by Funnygaaragirl



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dad vibes, Developing Relationship, Don't touch the kid, Drama, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Healing, M/M, Personal Growth, Romance, Smut, Soul-Searching, The kid has sass, mama bear - Freeform, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funnygaaragirl/pseuds/Funnygaaragirl
Summary: Grillby wanted a simple and quiet life to raise his daughter in. After the last two tumultuous years on the surface things finally began to calm. When a distressed human enters his bar, Grillby finds that the sweet mundane life he wanted was missing one crucial thing. Laren O'Shea.
Relationships: Grillby (Undertale)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

Things had finally begun to settle for the monster race. After two years free of the underground, many had finally found their place on the surface. It was a fight. Long legal battles had ensued to ensure monster rights, just like every human. Many humans didn’t believe monsters deserved rights. Protests broke out the moment the legal talks began. But, they had expected as such. Their arrival had thrown everything on its end.  
Humans had believed monsters to be nothing more than a children's story. The tale of them being trapped within Mt. Ebott, once passed down as history, was believed as nothing more than pure fiction. Humans, many monsters have gathered, do not like to be proven wrong. But, with as many humans protested their arrival and simple wish to live normal lives in peace, there were just as many who understood and accepted them into their society.  
Monsters now had full legal rights. They could own homes, businesses, could marry, their children could attend the same schools as the human children. They could be arrested and tried in court, apply for aid should something happen. With the rights being passed, discriminatory laws were passed in the same bundle. They were simple extensions of laws that already existed for humans. A business could not refuse to hire someone simply because they were a monster or pay them a lower wage. Hospitals could not turn away a monster in need. A university was not allowed to deny admission based on race.   
It made a few monsters nervous that these laws existed well before their arrival. It… didn’t paint the most hopeful picture for them.  
Grillby had only been open for a month. As soon as the legal rights had been passed he used what money he had been able to save working in the human diners and as a laborer to buy the little building and apply for a business licence. While most of monster kind had chosen to make their lives in the city, Grillby had opted for the small town in the shadow of the mountain. It was quiet and close. Everyone seemed to know each other and tended to be very friendly.  
Friendly to each other at least. The handful of monsters that made the same decision were finding the humans a little… not hostile, but not exactly welcoming either. In fact, in the full month that he had been open, not a single human had entered. That… had changed though just a few hours prior. Grillby kept his eye on the odd little human sitting at his bar as he cleaned the glasses. So did the ten other monsters currently enjoying his establishment.  
If he only had one word to describe the human, tired would be it. She had entered in a zombie like state, hood pulled up over her head and hands shoved deep in her pockets. She was so out of her own head that she hadn’t even noticed the monster's stares following her trek from the door to the bar. Or, if she had, she was very much unbothered by them. When she had taken her seat at the bar, Grillby immediately noticed the heavy, dark bags under her otherwise dull green eyes. The poor woman looked like she hadn’t had a decent night's sleep in weeks.  
Someone in her state, Grillby was certain they would want something strong to drink. Or at the very least a cup of coffee. But instead… “Do you have apple juice?” She asked in a weary voice, muffled slightly by her arm as she laid her head down. Grillby had a six year old daughter, he had apple juice. And he was certain Pyre wouldn’t mind if he gave one of her juice boxes to the woman.  
For the past two hours he had been using his fire magic to dry and polish glasses and cutlery and making sure Doggo had enough to drink. The other monsters tended to be self-sufficient, but the older dog monster was nearly blind. He had moved out there specifically because of Grillby. The fire monster had always been a big help to him in the underground. That wasn’t going to change for any reason.  
It was like clock-work. Grillby started the dishwasher, polished the glasses that just came out for ten minutes. Doggo needed another drink. The woman at the bar turned the page in her notebook and quietly sighed. The dishwasher was done. He started the next load and the cycle began again. Twenty-five minute intervals. Grillby began to count as the third hour of this nonsense began. The woman sighed right on cue and he grinned slightly.  
How mundane. How absolutely gloriously mundane. This was the life he had wanted all along. Quiet. Predictable. Something steady for little Pyre. And perhaps a little for himself as well. Raising Pyre on his own had been difficult at best while in the underground. It was nearly impossible when they came to the surface. Luckily, Grillby had friends willing to help.  
A sigh. The cycle was broken. The woman had pushed her notebook away and buried her head in her arms. Grillby hadn’t checked on her in awhile… He took a few steps toward her and cleared his throat. She lifted her head slightly, not meeting his gaze and pushed her hand through her hair. The hood fell back as a neglected mess of auburn red waves spilled around her. For the first time, Grillby noticed a smattering of small brown flecks across her face. What did humans call those? Freckles.  
“Can I get you anything else? You haven’t eaten yet.”  
She sat up more. “I didn’t?” Her voice and face were an open door to the surprise running through her. Finally, the young woman raised her gaze, eyes meeting Grillby’s. “How… how long have I been here?”  
“About three hours now.”  
Her head hit the counter again. “Oh my God. I am so sorry.” She said, slowly raising and pulling her hood back up. “I’ll leave.”  
Something… persistent pulled at his mind. It kept telling him not to let this woman leave. Something was obviously wrong with her. But more… Grillby had this nagging feeling that he needed to help this woman. “Wait.” He called before she could get very far. The only other person in the bar was Doggo, and based on the time he knew he had a few hours before Lady Toriel brought Pyre home. The young woman looked back at him with confusion. “You… when was the last time you ate?”  
Surprise and then deep thought flashed across her face. It grew pale as her eyes widened. “I… am not sure, actually.”  
Figured. “Take a seat. I’ll make you something to eat. You look like you need to talk.” What was he doing? Grillby rubbed at the back of his head as he entered the kitchen and began to make something simple. This wasn’t like him. Offering to listen to a stranger, yes. That’s par to the course of being a bartender. But actively keeping her here because of a gut feeling? Well, he thought, something to do.  
When the food was ready, he brought the plate out, happy to see the woman had listened and sat back down. She was looking down at her phone, a face of utter defeat. She looked like she wanted to cry. But the woman set the phone aside the moment the plate clicked down before her. It was nothing more than a tomato, basil, and cheese omelette with apple slices and melon on the side. The moment that first bite hit her tongue, she realized just how hungry she was. It was the best thing she had tasted in a long… long time. The food was gone in a matter of minutes.  
Grillby felt a nice swell of pride watching her devour the meal. It was one of his simpler recipes. And she ate it like it was gourmet cuisine. He did, however, notice the hesitation before she tucked into the melon. Grillby smiled and stuck his hand out. “I’m Grillby, by the way. Grillby Tine.”  
The woman smiled up at him and took his hand without hesitation. She did flinch slightly when his flames curled over her skin. But upon seeing they weren’t actually burning her, relaxed. “Laren O’Shea.” Laren took this time to actually see the man. He was… actually very handsome. His fiery skin was an orangish yellow, tapering off to a cooler red. She didn’t know if what she saw on his arms was actual muscle or just the way his flames were shaped. Either way it was nice to look at. Speaking of nice to look at… His jaw was slender and came to a nice defined curve. High cheekbones and a long, angular nose defined his narrow and blinding eyes. The slim glasses just brought his whole look together. But Laren was most fascinated by the twisting curl of fire on top of his head.  
Grillby leaned lightly against the bar. “So, what’s the story?”  
Laren gave a humorless laugh. “The short story is my life is falling apart.”  
He handed her a juice box. “And the long story?”  
She smiled a sad sort and stuck the straw through the foil. “I’m from this town. Born and raised. The best years of life were here and so were my best friends, people I considered family. I moved to the city about five, six years ago. Started out as a struggling seamstress. Made it all the way to having my own clothing brand.”  
“That’s impressive.” Grillby remarked.  
Laren took a sip of the juice. “It was a lot of hard work, sweat, and tears. I was… trying to make someone proud. My friends here kept in touch, sent me pictures of their kids, made sure I was eating. And if they wanted to order something from my brand, they messaged me instead of ordering on the website. It was popular, orders would tend to get delayed. I made sure they got what they wanted fast. And my brand had a good name! My people were paid well, everything was cruelty free, and we never discriminated. Everything was going so well…”  
“Until?” Grillby prompted.  
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Laren gently pushed the heel of her hand to stem the flow. “I… started selling clothes for monsters.” Oh. “I made the announcement, so sure that everyone who worked with me would be happy and ready to start this new project. And a literal fourth of my staff walked out.” Grillby took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I thought we could still work with who we had while I found more people. But then, once loyal customers started sending me these horrible messages on social media, pictures of them writing slurs on my clothes and then burning them!”  
She took a deep breath and put her head in her hands. “But I tried my best to ignore them. And how much they hurt me. I kept on with the project, sold a lot of clothes to monsters actually. I had hope again.... Until my employees started getting attacked.” Grillby straightened in true shock. “Every day I was getting calls, running to hospitals across the city to see my poor workers. My shop was vandalized, my website hacked. And then…” She sighed, sitting up again. “I don’t know how they found out where I lived.”  
Grillby could feel his flames growing white hot for this poor woman. “They came to your home?” He practically growled.  
She nodded. “I wasn’t home at the time, thank God. My assistant thought I needed a drink.” The chuckle at the end was pure stress. “But that was the last straw. I packed up what was left, gave my remaining employees a generous severance and came back here. Home is the perfect place to pick up the pieces and start again, right?” Grillby watched as she pushed her hair back, eyes cast off to the side as she gathered her thoughts and emotions. “No one welcomed me back. Those same people I once helped get orders to spit at me as I waved. My pastor! Man of God! He scowled at me the other day at IGA! So… I stopped leaving the house. Lost track of my days. Now I’m here, the only place in town I could think of that I could sit for an hour and think without being harrassed.”  
It was quiet for a good long while. The air was heavy. But, amazingly, Laren felt better. Maybe she did just need to get the whole sorted story out of her heart. She stood with a genuine small smile. “Thank you, Grillby. This… really helped.”  
“Sure you don’t want to stay? I can make you a more age appropriate drink. You could meet my daughter soon.”  
Her smile grew. “You’re such a sweetheart. But, I’m not gonna lie, I smell awful under this hoodie and I have a little motivation to clean up the house now.” She looked to the side briefly before meeting his gaze again. “Do you… mind if I come back?”  
Grillby gave her a friendly smile. “Come back whenever you like, Laren.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Can we get peanut butter cookies?” Pyre asked, her little green hand wrapped around Grillby’s orange one.  
“That depends. Are you finally going to forgive me for giving away one of your juice boxes?” It had been two entire days since Laren O’Shea had wobbled barely alive into his bar, asking for nothing more than apple juice. Pyre, however, had noticed a few of her juice boxes missing when she walked in the door that night. One thing Pyre was particularly good at? Holding a grudge.  
For the past two days, whenever Grillby asks if she would like something to eat or drink, she responds with, “Oh, you aren’t just going to give it away?” How a six year old can manage to be that sassy was beyond him. But her little grudges tended to only last a few days. Except for the bunny incident. That lasted a week… Grillby shuddered mentally. They don’t talk about the bunny incident.  
“Hmmm… Let me think about it.” She said with a grin. Grillby sighed, shaking his head as they walked into the local IGA for a few groceries. Sure, there were stares. There were whispers. People went out of their way to avoid the two fire monsters. But Pyre had been so young when they came to the surface that the stares and whispers were all she knew. It was a sad fact, but a helpful one.  
“Can I hold the basket?” She asked as they walked through the door.  
“You sure, Pyre? It’s going to get ve~ry heavy.”  
“I’ve got this!” She claimed, fist held before her. Something told him Alphys let her watch anime last time she was in town. So, Grillby got a basket and handed it to his grinning daughter. Her tiny green flames flared slightly in joy as she skipped to the produce section. Grillby smiled as he followed behind. Everything he did was to provide Pyre with a stable and normal life. He knew it was hard for her without a mother. So he had tried to learn all he could about styling her flaming hair. So far, pigtails was all he could really manage.  
But Pyre always had a smile on her adorable little face. She stopped in front of the lettuce and made a face. “We don’t need this, right?” Sassy little…  
“Why don’t you look at the list and tell me?” Pyre was learning how to read now, so Grillby took every opportunity to make her practice. As she took the list from her jacket pocket, Grillby noticed two women whispering to each other and glaring in their direction. But Grillby knew how to handle the middle aged women of this town. He knelt down as Pyre began to sound out the first word on the list.  
“Okay, To- um… Toma?”  
“TomA.” He corrected.  
“Tomatoes.”  
Grillby pressed a gentle kiss to her head. “That’s my girl.” A quick side glance at the women showed them with wide eyes and pink cheeks as they quickly pushed their carts away. Single dad vibes. The cross species pheromone. Grillby helped his daughter pick out three big and juicy tomatoes before having her read the next item on the list.  
As they rounded the shelf to find apples, Grillby was pleasantly surprised to see Laren, inspecting a pack of strawberries. She looked better. The bags under her eyes had greatly diminished and she had swept her long red hair into a ponytail. Gone was the oversized hoodie in favor of a flattering blue blouse and light purple jacket. He was about to call out to her when he overheard the same two women from earlier gossiping about her.  
“Ugh, the O’Shea girl.”  
“Gets chased out of the city for being a monster lover, comes back here? She’s just going to drag more of her disgusting pets into this town.”  
“You know, I made my kids throw away every piece of clothing from her company.”  
“Mm, same. Little one threw a fit. But I can’t have them supporting something like her.”  
Grillby felt his flames flare white for a brief moment. Parents like them are the reason so many bigots exist in the world. What were they teaching their kids? That it’s okay to hurt people for being accepting. That it’s okay to hate someone because they look different. His hand tightened slightly on Pyre’s as he moved them forward. Grillby had always taught his daughter that a person's appearance, color, race, height, and weight were never reasons to be mean to them.  
“Laren.” He called out.  
The young woman turned, a grin breaking across her face. It still didn’t reach her eyes. “Grillby, hi.” Her gaze slid down to the curious six year old at his side. She knelt. “You are the most adorable little girl I have ever seen.”  
Pyre’s flames swelled with pride as she smiled, giving Grillby a happy grin as well. “I’m Pyre.” She stated, proudly.  
“It’s very nice to meet you Pyre. I’m Laren. Oh, thank you for letting me have one of your juice boxes the other day.”  
Her mouth dropped open, showing the bright hot glowing green inside. “You are the one that took it?” Pyre looked from Laren to her father and then back to Laren again before closing her eyes with a grin and patting his arm. “I forgive you.” Was all she said before walking off to pick a few apples. Laren raised a brow as she stood while Grillby just watched her go, his fire concentrating in his face. That little…  
Laren snorted next to him. “Oh my God, I love her.”  
“She’s, uh, something else alright.” Grillby hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “It’s been a few days. How’ve you been?”  
Her gaze lowered slightly. “Not… great. But better. I managed to clean the house.” She looked up, her slightly upturned eyes meeting his fiery gaze. “Talking to you really helped.” Laren looked around, her expression dropping slightly as she put the container of strawberries in her basket. “So I have some time finally tonight. What time are you open?”  
What had she seen that made her so… sad? The change in her mood was almost instantaneous. Humans can’t see the movement of certain monsters' eyes. Fire monsters happened to be one of them, so he thanked whatever deity there was and quickly glanced around as he answered her. Stares, whispers, hostil glances. Almost everyone in the store was staring at them as they simply chatted. He knew her heart hurt seeing the bigotry. So did his.  
Pyre rejoined them, a plastic produce bag with two bright green apples in hand. Laren smiled. “Thanks again. I’ll see you later, Grillby.” She waved down to Pyre. “It was nice to meet you, Pyre.”  
She waved excitedly. “Bye-bye!” The moment, the absolute second Laren was around the corner, Pyre sang, “She made your fire flare.”  
“Pyre!” He scolded as she simply giggled and skipped off to the next section. That child made him wonder sometimes. Pyre had barely been a year old when her mother, Igni, had died from a sudden illness. She didn’t remember her and only knew what she looked like because of the picture in the living room. There were… times… when she had wondered to him why she didn’t have a mother like the other kids. He knew it was hard for her.  
They gathered the rest of their items and paid. Pyre was growing strong and well rounded despite not having Igni’s guidance and love. However… he had wondered if maybe it was time to bring a woman into her life. Easier said than done though. Many of Grillby’s friends had tried talking him into dating again over the years. He always had an excuse.   
The big one being that he didn’t want to bring someone into Pyre’s life only for it not to work out in the end. But at the time… his back voice always said that he didn’t want anyone else. Only his Igni.  
Back at the bar, Grillby made dinner for the two of them and began his opening tasks. Pyre sat at the bar and worked on some school work while a video played on his phone.   
Simple, quiet, mundane. Grillby smiled as he flipped the open sign and moved behind the bar. No one would be there for another hour or so. His regulars had fairly set schedules. In fact, Grillby proved this once to a visiting Sans, he could count down to the moment Doggo, Red Bird, and Barney walked in the door.  
Pyre danced a bit in her seat to the song playing in the video. Recently, she was obsessed with this children's performer on YouTube. Addalia or something like that. An odd human with bright bubblegum pink hair and clothing with far too many frills and beads. She sang about making friends and how flowers grow, all while dancing easy to learn routines. She was also a very outspoken monster rights activist.  
Articles involving her popped up on Facebook a lot. Grillby stopped cleaning off the bartop mid stroke as something wiggled in the back of his mind. It was an article he had seen several weeks prior involving Addalia calling out the criminal abuse of her friend, a well known brand designer. Grillby asked Pyre for his phone so he could look up something.  
He hadn’t read the article at the time since he really didn’t care what a children’s performer had to say, but… ‘Addalia brand designer’ was typed into the search box. He tapped on the first article and skimmed it for the important details. Half way down the page… There she was. A small, professional portrait sat attached at the side of the article of Laren. Her face was so bright in the picture, eyes alive. Nothing like the dim flicker of a woman he had met. What had these people done to her?  
‘Head designer and CEO of popular brand Laughy Cat under fire by hate groups and fans alike for daring to sell clothes designed to fit monster kind. Long time friend and performer Addalia Smalls angrily calls for justice for O’Shea, as her company continues to be attacked and driven into the ground. ‘She has done nothing but provide clothing, an essential item, to a group of people in need. If that is all it takes, then why aren’t hospitals being attacked for providing care to monsters? Why aren’t schools being attacked for teaching monster children? Because Laren and her employees are an easy target to take all their hate out on. They want to send a message to everyone thinking of supporting monsters through my friend, and I think it’s time some justice was served to the real monsters in our society.’  
Grillby typed ‘Laughy Cat’ next. The articles that came up… broke his heart. ‘The end for Laughy Cat’, ‘O’Shea commit business suicide’, ‘Justice For Laughy Cat’. But one caught his eye at the end of the page. “Hope For Laughy Cat.”  
‘Remaining fans of the popular brand Laughy Cat say the young designer has remained quiet, distant, but optimistic and has returned to her early one woman seamstress days. She is willing and happy to provide any piece from her old line upon request.’ Grillby handed the phone back to a patiently waiting Pyre.  
“Pyre, have you heard of the brand Laughy Cat?” He asked.  
Her eyes shone like falling stars. “My dress is Laughy Cat!” She yelled, standing on the barstool to show him. It was her favorite dress. He actually remembered buying it for her online a few months prior because she wouldn’t leave him alone about it. He had no idea.  
“Sit down before you hurt yourself.” Pyre giggled and returned to the video she had previously been enjoying. He shook his head and looked up at the clock. It was time for Doggo to show up. Sure enough, the bell above the door rang and the older dog took his usual seat. Predictable. Just how he liked it. However, Grillby found his smile wider and night brighter when the bell rang and Laren entered the bar.


	3. Chapter 3

Grillby slowly opened his eyes as the last edges of his dream faded into reality. It was Saturday, one of few days he was able to sleep in. And his subconscious just woke him up before dawn. How grand. Grillby rubbed his face and stared up at the ceiling. Another dream about Igni. They became rather frequent close to her anniversary. He sat up and reached for his phone. Four fifteen… He sighed and opened Facebook. A little bit of mindless scrolling should relax him enough to get a few more hours of rest.  
In the underground, they had the internet, though it was called the undernet. Social media existed but it wasn’t nearly as popular or expansive as it was on the surface. Many of his friends in the city would post pictures of their day or share news stories having to do with the expansion of monster rights. But most of it was stupid and rediculous crap he couldn’t get enough of. His best friend, Sans, took to meme’s like a fish to water.  
Speaking of Sans, a post from a few hours before reminded him he was coming down for his quarterly visit in a few days. Maybe a few days of Sans’ nonsense would break Grillby from his dark cloud. Pyre was looking forward to the sleep-over at Toriel’s as well. Every few months, Sans came down from the city and Pyre stayed with her teacher for two days and one night while Grillby let loose. Sans had started it way back in the underground. Had said it was to keep him sane.  
Grillby loves his daughter more than life. But even he needed a break now and then. Which was why Saturday’s were generally pretty nice. It was the one day a week he left the bar in the hands of his part-timers to relax and spend some much needed quality time with his daughter. Running the bar took up most of his time. While Grillby knew it tended to hurt his relationship with Pyre, he knew there was nothing he could do about it.  
When they had first arrived on the surface, he had to work several jobs to support them. Toriel had been an absolute God send during that time. Believe it or not, Grillby had more time with Pyre running his own bar than working like he had been. But even last night… He knew there was something she wanted to tell him. But Grillby was busy and couldn’t stop for very long to talk to her.  
The other God send of this time had to be Laren O’Shea though. For the past few weeks, she had been coming in near the same time just to sit with Pyre and help her with her school work. Pyre adores her. When they have breakfast together, and even during bed time, all she can talk about is Laren and some odd thing she taught her. Grillby had been slipping Laren free meals since this began.  
The screen of his phone began to blur and Grillby let out a jaw popping yawn. He prayed for just a few more hours of sleep. Setting his phone aside, Grillby laid back down and closed his eyes. He was just slipping off when his phone buzzed with a message.  
The next he opened his eyes, morning light spilled through the sheer green curtains over his window. Why hadn’t he gotten thick ones? With a groan, Grillby was up and stretching lazily. The sounds of early morning cartoons told him Pyre was awake and had most likely made a mess trying to make her own bowl of cereal. Grillby ran his hands through his flames to calm their early morning struggle.  
Sure enough, Pyre sat on the floor of the living room with a sloppy bowl of rice krispies in hand. Her gaze was focused on the tv as an animated young man made a horrible joke, earning groans from his friends. “Good morning, Pyre. What’s the damage?”  
“I only spilled a little and cleaned it up!” She said, shoving a spoonful in her mouth. Su~re. He smiled as he made his way into the kitchen and noticed immediately a small spread of rice krispies on the floor. He shook his head, easily swept it up and began a pot of coffee. “Oh, Dad! There’s something I want to do today!”  
“What’s that?” It wasn’t very often she had plans so early in the day. Normally it took her at least until noon to even want to move from the couch.  
“I want to go to Laren’s house.”  
“Laren’s?” He asked. “Why? You see her every day at the bar.”  
“Okay, yes. But there’s something I want to talk to both of you about! Please!” Her eyes grew wide and glittered with sparks.  
Grillby sighed. But he was curious too. What on Earth could she have to say to both of them? “Well, alright. But you need to call her first and make sure it’s okay.”  
She sped off toward his room with a determined ‘on it’. With a grin and shake of the head, Grillby continued to relax on the couch and drink his coffee. The odd cartoon Pyre had been watching caught his attention for a while. Huh. Why couldn’t cartoons have been this deep when he was growing up? Not to hate on the classics, but this show actually had a story to tell and a lesson to teach. Grillby startled with Pyre jumped up next to him on the couch.  
“She said it was fine. She’s home all day.” Pyre held out his phone. “Also, you have a message from Ms. Toriel.” It was most likely just a confirmation for the sleepover coming up. He would look at it later.  
Once the episode was over and both Pyre and Grillby had their fill of their usual morning ‘meal’, they got ready to go. This would actually be the first time either had gone to Laren’s home. She had given them the address in case of emergency but since she spent almost every night at the bar there hadn’t been much need to visit. Grillby found he was actually kind of curious what kind of home she had. She lived in the city for so long. Maybe it was a chic home with lots of light and dark contrasts? But that image didn’t really seem to fit her.  
Pyre practically skipped down the steps from the apartment above the bar. That was one of the great things about these old buildings. The bar was part of a building on the very edge of town, even though what could be considered ‘downtown’ was literally a three minute walk up the hill. Almost all the buildings in town though were two and three story buildings with shops and other businesses being on the ground floor and small apartments sitting above them. Theirs was only a two story building, and a very kind older couple lived in the apartment next to theirs.  
Grillby locked the door once they were on the street and they continued around to the back of the building. Only two cars sat behind the building. One that never moved that belonged to the old couple. The other was a slightly beat up green and brown paneled station wagon straight out of the seventies. It ran, though, and Grillby had been able to pay for it in cash. The less he had to pay a month the better.  
Pyre quickly climbed in the back and settled herself in her booster seat. It was then that Grillby noticed the manilla folder in her hands with a large sticker across the front that said ‘top secret’. His brow rose as he also got in and clicked his seat belt. “What’s with the folder?” He asked.  
She shook her head. “It’s part of the thing.”  
“The thing?” Grillby began to back out of the parking space.  
“The thing I want to talk to you and Laren about!”  
Grillby felt a smirk spread across his face at just how offended she sounded that he didn’t immediately connect the two ‘things’. Every so often on the short drive he would glance back and become just slightly more curious as he watched his daughter leaf through the folder and take deep breaths. She was nervous. But there was a determined fire in her eyes he couldn’t ignore. This was important to her.  
Laren lived outside of town down an old dirt road surrounded on either side by thick trees and corn fields. It was kind of like going through a story book as he drove down the path. The tree branches hung overhead and filtered the sun light. The farther they went though, the more Grillby noticed strange color patterns filtering through on the road. “Why are there bottles in the trees?” Pyre finally asked.  
That’s what it was. Hanging from the tree branches were colorful glass bottles in varying sizes. The sun light through the trees cast the colors across the road until it looked like he was following a rainbow to their destination. They came around one last twist in the road and the trees opened up to the front of an obviously old but well maintained farm house. The dirt path transitioned into a driveway of white rock leading up to the side of the house. There was no garage and Grillby could see Laren’s little blue car as well as a well used brown truck just ahead of them. He parked behind the blue car.  
The house itself was beautiful. Well cared for flowering bushes surrounded the house and front porch. The siding was painted white with bright blue shutters and flowers around the windows. Up on the porch was a simple wooden swing and Laren who quickly snuffed out a cigarette when she noticed them pulling in. He didn’t know she smoked…  
Laren hopped up and headed down the steps, ready for the hug Pyre threw at her. Her shirt hung off one shoulder and for the first time, Grillby was able to see a small smattering of freckles across them. What else didn’t he know about her?  
“Hi sweetie! Come on in! Don’t mind the mess, I’m still trying to unpack a few things.” Laren reached out to touch Grillby’s arm as well as they headed up the porch steps and in the house. Inside was much like outside. Obviously old. But cared for. The wood floor looked like it had recently been re-stained and several pictures hung on the walls down the hallway. A few looked like a much younger Laren. There were more sitting in a corner. Boxes cluttered a few corners and alcoves of the house. Not all seemed to be things she had brought back from the city.  
The living room was filled with plants and sunlight from the large sliding glass door. That was the most modern thing about the house it seemed. Grillby and Pyre took a seat on the worn cream colored couch while Laren sat across from them in a burnt red armchair. She was a lot more at ease than he had ever seen her. Any time Grillby and Laren came across each other in town she always had a certain tension in her shoulders and was rather reserved. Even at the bar she tended to keep close to Pyre and remain unseen.  
That hadn’t worked, given how often Doggo and several other monsters would sit and chat with her.  
“Alright.” Grillby said. “You have both of us. What is this ‘thing’ you wanted to talk about?”  
Pyre patted the tops of her legs as she glanced around the room, her folder propped up against her chest. “Sooo… you remember that awesome carnival thing they did by the movie theatre last year?” She asked.  
Grillby and Laren nodded. “That’s ol’ settlers.” Laren said. “They've been doing that every year since I was kid.”  
“What about it?” Grillby prompted.  
“Well some girls were talking about this thing they do every year for it and how only pretty girls can do it and then they said that I couldn’t do it because I wasn’t pretty so I told them I could so and then they said nuh-uh-”  
“-Pyre.”  
“Right. Point.” She took a deep breath and opened her folder showing them the fully filled out forms and permission slips. “I… want to be in the ol’ settlers little miss pageant!”


	4. Chapter 4

Cold. Grillby felt cold. The man made from fire magic, who could light a candle by touching it and fry an egg on his leg… felt so cold. He watched as Laren’s face lit up, a wide smile breaking across her face and eyes growing wide. He watched as Pyre danced in her seat beside him with excitement over her announcement. Oh stars. Grillby couldn’t keep up. Motion and sound were lagging behind each other as he tried to process his daughter's words.  
No. No no nononono- “No!” Everything stopped. Pyre’s flames had dulled to a shocked and worried flicker. Her little hands balled into fists.   
A whistle. Some tension was broken as Laren bit her lip and let out an airy whistle. There was an odd chirping sound before a rather large and fluffy black and white cat waddled into the room. The bottom of its jaw jutted out, revealing it’s sharp teeth and one yellow eye couldn’t stay focused. It just drifted down before finding its way back up and dropping again.  
That was an ugly freaking cat. Yet Laren reached down and lifted the massive thing into her arms like it was the most precious being in the world. “Pyre, this is Critter. Would you be okay keeping him company while I talk to your Dad for a moment?” She nodded enthusiastically and called to the cat who was more than happy to rub against her naturally warm legs.  
Laren stood and motioned with her head to the sliding glass door nearby. Of course, Grillby followed. But he just couldn’t keep his thoughts straight. Worry and fear coursed through his being, making his flames jump and flicker and spark erratically. He wanted to pace. Laren leaned against the railing of the deck and watched him as she pulled a pack of cigarettes from seemingly nowhere.   
The way he jittered and dragged his foot as he turned in his pacing was almost comical. But this was a serious problem for him. She lit her one vice and took a deep breath. “Alright, come here.” Waving him over did cause him to stop, but he stayed in place.  
The smell of the tobacco was enticing. He hadn’t smoked in almost ten years, but the stress of the past few years had been eating at his resolve. Sans had offered him one a few times during their visits, but never felt he needed it. Now, he needed it. Grillby settled in next to her and pressed his hands to his face, letting a frustrated growl roll free. He didn’t even have to ask. Laren simply held one out in offering.  
The taste was awful, but Grillby felt himself calming as he took that first drag. As his flames began to roll and pop at a more normal rate, Laren continued. Her gaze strayed back inside to a perfectly content Pyre and Critter who were playing with a discarded piece of ribbon. Over the past few weeks, she had grown to recognize the different mood tells the fire monsters gave off. Any flicker or change of color meant a different emotion. It was impossible for them to hide strong emotions.  
That’s why Laren was so worried about Grillby’s reaction to Pyre wanting to join the contest. She had never seen his flames go so low, so dark. Like dying embers in a campfire. “Want to talk about it?”  
Grillby sighed as he released his second drag. “She’s going to get herself hurt doing this.” He finally said after a pause.  
Oh, there was no denying that. Laren knew that better than most having grown up in this small town and having gone through her recent trials. She knew it was nothing compared to what the monsters had been going through. If Pyre joined the Little miss contest, this town would try to tear her to shreds. But that sweet little girl was so excited… Laren smiled as Pyre pulled her cat into an awkward hug. He just kind of laid there and took it.  
“Yeah, she just might.” Laren agreed. “But Pyre is a strong little girl with A LOT of personality. I know. The people of this town are not going to just accept a monster child joining the pageant. They are going to scream and yell and coach their children on what to say and do to her to try to ‘teach her her place’.” Grillby thought he was going to be sick. “But she is going to face that her entire life up here.”  
He turned, soul an absolute twisting and thrumming mess. Laren still watched Pyre through the glass with the smallest smile. Every day she seemed to be doing better, pulling herself out of that dark place she had been in when they met. But he noticed those days when the darkness was creeping back into her eyes, the bags under them growing a little heavier. Looking down at her now… Laren was dim. But there was a light shining deep within that hadn’t been there before.  
“I know. But, damn it, can’t I protect her just a little longer? Can’t tell her not to do this and keep her from that pure hate?”  
“I can’t tell you what to do, Grillby.” Laren crushed the butt of her cigarette in a nearby ashtray, before gently placing her hand to his arm, pulling his focus. “But I’d like to think we’re friends at this point. And as a friend, I’m encouraging you to let Pyre join the pageant. She even said it herself! Those little bullies were trying to tell her she couldn’t do it because she’s a monster. And she wants to prove them wrong.”  
He did admire that in his daughter. She wouldn’t be put down like that, always fought back. But the thought of those angry faces and hate spewn words directed at her still made him sick. Grillby wanted to take time to think about this, maybe discuss it with Sans and Toriel, get a monster's perspective. But Pyre had taken the time to fill out the forms on her own. Her childish chicken scratch handwriting and no doubt misspelled words were filled with her hope and determination. Telling her no right now would crush her.  
Grillby sighed again and put his hand over Larens on his arm. “I’ll think about it.”  
She nodded. “Alright. But I’m going to go ahead and start making a dress for her. Even if you decide she can’t participate it could still be a nice formal dress.”  
“I can’t ask you to do that.” She already watched her at the bar and helped her do her school work.  
“I have friends coming into town next week. Pay me back by letting us hang out in your bar.”  
… That’s it? She wants to hang out in his bar… with friends… in exchange for a handmade formal gown. Handmade by an ex-top designer at that. Grillby shook his head. This woman.  
But this… felt good. Grillby was used to being the one who did the majority of the listening. Very seldom did anyone offer to listen to him for a while. He knew he was known to many as the quiet one. But there was… a lot that still weighed on him. Things he felt he wanted to say and actually talk about.  
Things like Igni…  
But he had kept quiet for so long… he didn’t know if it could even be possible at this point. As they walked back into the living room, Grillby assessed his feelings on the matter. He was terrified. Absolutely terrified. He had lost so much in his life and the thought of losing the one person he had left, the person he would give the moon and stars to, was shattering. And Grillby honestly did believe the people of this town would resort to violence to keep Pyre out of the pageant. But… Laren was also right.  
Pyre has a lot of personality and a point to prove. He didn’t want Pyre to grow up thinking she had to avoid doing these fun and exciting things because of her race. That was what those asshole racists wanted. Telling her not to do the pageant for her own good was a lot like those girls telling her she couldn’t because she was a monster. It wasn’t just two little voices arguing back and forth at this point in his head. It was a thousand.  
“Oh, Crit, you are so pathetic.” Laren cooed as she knelt beside Pyre who was busy rubbing the beasts fluffy stomach. He gave a half hearted rawl in response. “Hey, want me to make you a dress?”  
Pyre’s eyes lit up like Gyftmas lights. “Yes yes yes! Please! I would love you forever!”  
Laren leaned back in mock offense. “I thought you already loved me forever.”  
“Different kind of love, different kind of forever.” She said it with such a straight face, neither of the adults could contain themselves. Laren led her over to the entryway of the kitchen where two ancient looking meter sticks had been taped up to the wall. Pyre stood straight backed against them as Laren carefully got her height.  
There was something on the wall next to the meter sticks. Grillby could just see the odd marks on the paint, but he couldn’t see just what they were. “Jeez, you’re tall for your age!”  
Pyre stood with pride fluffing out her flames. They giggled as Laren led her away once again for more measurements. Grillby took the opportunity to get a closer look at the marks. Kneeling down, he was finally able to see the faded pencil marks next to the measuring sticks. ‘Laren- age 4’ was the first mark with a dash leading roughly to the three feet and two inches mark. Just above it was a mark that was even more faded and smudged, almost like someone had rubbed at it. ‘Emily- age 4’. Another set of the same sat above those for age five and so on.  
Grillby looked around the room once again with fresh eyes. He noticed so many little things he had missed before. All the pictures that sat in a pile on the end tables, the boxes of old knick-knacks and decorations. This wasn’t just Laren’s home. It was her childhood home. He moved to the pile of pictures and picked a few up. It was similar to the one in the front hall he had seen earlier, a younger Laren holding a basket full of garden flowers. This picture held an older man smiling next to her however.  
He shared many features with her, mostly the narrow green eyes and smattering of freckles. But this man seemed… too old to be her father. The other picture was a black and white photo of a woman who looked greatly like Laren, just… more severe. He turned the picture frame over and gently placed them back on the table. She had mentioned needing to clean up the house when they met. He didn’t realize she meant ‘cleaning up’.  
A small pain settled in Grillby’s soul. This woman saw him as a friend, went out of her way to do nice things for his daughter.  
He didn’t know the first thing about her.  
“Okay, I know the blue is pretty, but it clashes with the green. I’m telling you, lavender or peach would be a million times better for you.” Grillby jumped slightly as the girls came back in the room. He recognized the notebook Laren held.  
“I can wear blue, my favorite dress is blue.” Pyre shot back.  
“That blue is a completely different hue. It’s a sky blue. This is teal. Blue and green mixed together. It would clash against your naturally kelley and lime green flames.”  
“And you think PEACH would look better?”  
“Lavender for sure.”  
…. Grillby was so lost.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are those feels I see on the horizon? :D

“Should she be playing near that?” Laren asked as she and Grillby leaned against the porch railing, watching Pyre play near the small gold fish pond in the garden with Critter.  
Grillby felt his mouth turn up with amusement. More than once he had found both himself and his daughter doused in water from some belligerent human believing it would hurt them. Of course, Grillby understood the thinking. Water puts out fire, so water should hurt monsters seemingly made of fire. He just found it amusing at this point. “She’s fine. Water doesn’t actually hurt us.”  
One of her brows rose. “That- Wait, really? So, okay- swimming? Swimming is okay?”  
That grin grew at her curiosity. “Yes. And yes,” He began at her excited expression. “Our flames flicker under the water.”  
“Awesome.” She whispered in awe, returning her gaze to Pyre.  
“We aren’t actually made of fire, Laren. We’re made of magic. That’s why we can touch each other without you being burned.” He ran his hand through the fiery length of her hair to prove his point. ...Oh… Her hair was soft. Was this the first time he had touched her hair? He couldn’t remember. Oh, he wanted to run the length of it again, but let the strands fall from his fingers. Laren watched him with delight in her green eyes.  
It wasn’t often magic was discussed in such a casual manner. Most humans only had the most base of understanding of how it worked and pertained to monsters. Monsters were incredibly willing to explain what they knew, but most humans found the conversation uncomfortable… or boring. One of the two.  
Grillby wasn’t the most well versed on magic and it’s intricate inner workings. He was a business owner, not a doctor after all. But he remembered enough from high school health and anatomy class to be able to break down the basics. “So~, when people ask you for a glass of water at the bar, and you say you don’t touch the stuff…”  
Oh. Grillby felt his flames glow just that little bit brighter as he avoided her gaze. “That’s, ah-” He coughed into his fist. “That’s just a joke.”  
Laren’s shit eating grin grew ever wider as she bent to put herself in his line of sight. “Oh, Mr. Serious knows how to joke?”  
“Mr. What and excuse me?” He turned to her with mock offense. “I can be funny. Pyre!” The little girl popped her head up from behind a flowering bush, Critter dangling from her arms. “I’m funny, right?”  
“Eh.” She waved her hand in a so-so motion. Grillby hung his head as Laren lost all control on her laughter, doubling over and snorting with every other intake of breath.  
It was adorable and mortifying and wonderful. It had been a good while since Grillby had such simple fun with someone other than Sans. There was no tension, no questioning whether or not she was enjoying their time together. Grillby was calm and took a deep breath as a low breeze pushed the flowers and leaves to the side. A wind chime somewhere behind them played it’s gentle melody until the breeze died down.  
There was something… so peaceful about just standing there on the porch, watching his daughter run around the yard, freely speaking with Laren like they didn’t have a care in the world. Like he wasn’t still feeling the initial fear that flooded him when Pyre brought up the pageant. He took in a long breath and closed his eyes. Grillby was just looking forward to Sans being in town. Monday was the golden day. He would stay with Grillby Monday and head back on Tuesday. Usually late on Tuesday, but that was fine with Grillby. Since he was usually around on school days he didn’t mind the later stay since Pyre would still be out until after class.  
Grillby was reminded of the message he never opened from Toriel.  
“My grandpa put in those apple trees back there.” Larens voice halted his reach for his phone as he followed the path of her pointing hand. Back past the flowers and small pond were four well tended apple trees. Between two, a white knit hammock had been stretched. “You probably already figured this out, but I REALLY like apples.” He had figured that out. Considering apple juice had been the only thing she ever asked for at the bar. Plus the one time he had given her baked apple as a side she almost drooled. “I was asking for apples so often he figured it was easier to put a few trees in instead of going to IGA everyday.”  
Oh Grillby could completely understand that. Pyre had a particular fondness for apples as well. But her tastes changed every so often. Not that long ago, she was asking for banana bread every few hours. Before that, she couldn’t go a meal without smashed pears. This was the first time he had heard her mention any family though. “Did he do the rest of this?” He asked, eyes out at the sprawling but simplistic garden.   
“He put in the pond and those black-eyed susans. The rest I had to replant when I moved.” She leaned forward on the railing, stretching out her back. “I was living in the city when Grandpa passed. The house was empty for about three years and a handful and I didn’t trust anyone from town to do the place justice.” Once righted again, Laren blew a raspberry at Pyre who was making faces from near the pond.  
While her tone was light and casual Grillby couldn’t help but notice how she began to bounce on her toes. Was she uncomfortable with the topic of family? Or was it simply the topic of her Grandfather? The pictures inside were enough to prove how close they had been when she lived here. Not knowing for sure, Grillby did the only thing he could think of. Change the subject. “I always thought growing my own basil and chives would be nice.”  
“Little herb gardens are the best!” Laren’s whole face lit up. “I had one on my balcony in the city! Basil, peppermint, chives, oregano.”  
Grillby’s phone buzzed in his pocket. A message?  
Lazy Bones: got us sum gud stuff.  
Lazy Bones: we r gonna get lit :D.  
Grillby was halfway between a huff of laughter and a groan at the pun. “Well that’s a face.” Laren commented, watching him from her place at the rail.  
He smiled down at his phone and responded simply. “A good friend is coming into town on Monday. He can be a bit much with the jokes.” Grillby felt his expression drop as he backed out of the conversation with Sans and immediately saw the beginning of the message from Toriel he had yet to read. He quickly opened it and felt like cold water running through his soul.   
Toriel Dreemurr: My friend, I greatly apologize for the late notice. Frisk has been called away to Ebott for last minute ambassador meetings. I am afraid we will not be back in time to host Pyre as we usually do.  
Oh no. No no no, what was he supposed to do? He really didn’t want to cancel on Sans because of this, but he really didn’t have any other options for a sitter for Pyre. “Grillby?” Laren watched him with concern lighting her eyes. She had straightened her posture and looked ready to reach out to him.  
Grillby sighed and put his phone away before burying his head in his hands. “Looks like I have to cancel on my friend…” He muttered.  
But she caught it easily. “What happened?”  
Grillby had never really been one to let loose about the goings on in his life. Generally, he listened to others stories and problems, giving them the ear they needed for an hour or so as they slowly drained a glass of hard liquor. Grillby dealt with his own problems just fine. So while he began to respond in a usual manner, tell her not to worry and be done with it, he couldn’t help but be tempted by the honest concern displayed across her face.   
Grillby could feel the warm magic growing across his face and he looked down at the railing. He would question that display at a later time. “Sans comes to visit once every few months. When he does, Pyre stays with her school friend for the night. But it looks like she won’t be able to stay with them this time.” He let the sentence die with a sigh and pulled the conversation bubble up for Sans. “I hate doing it, but without a sitter it’s pointless for Sans to really come out here.”  
“Whoa, whoa there friend.” She put her hand over the screen of his phone, forcing his attention to her. “Pyre can stay a night with me. I have the room.”  
That warm flare steadily grew, starting in Grillby’s chest and spreading outward, upward to his face. He knew his flames would look white soon. But Grillby shook his head. “Laren, I really appreciate it, but you already do so much for her. I can’t ask that of you.”  
She folded her arms in front of her chest. “I really don’t do anything special. And watching Pyre for a night isn’t exactly a task.” Her fingers flexed a few times, pressing small white spots in her arms.  
“You watch her at the bar almost every day, help her with her school work-”  
“-You feed me amazing food in return.” She answered in the same tone.  
“Now you’re making her a dress for a pageant I’m struggling to accept for her to join. I really can’t ask you to watch her.”  
It was quiet a moment. A breeze rustled the leaves in the trees and pushed the chimes by the door to play their sweet music. Pyre laughed and said something to Critter pertaining to their game of make believe. Laren sighed. “Look, if you’re not comfortable with me watching her, just say that-”  
“No!” Grillby was surprised by the vehemence in his own voice. But he really didn’t want Laren thinking that. He actually thought it would be good for Pyre to spend more time with the woman. She was a great influence and a strong person for the young girl to look up to. “No, really it isn’t that I don’t want you too.” He took her hands and gently pushed circles into her palms. “I just…” He sighed. “I don’t want you to neglect your life to help me as much as you have with Pyre.” There it was. It was a feeling that had been growing in Grillby’s head for a while at this point. Sure, he didn’t really know what she did before coming into the bar an hour before Pyre was dropped off, but she was always there. And Grillby felt like he had been taking advantage of her presence and kindness and her obvious affinity with his daughter. The last thing he wanted was to unknowingly monopolize her time.  
Laren wrapped her fingers around his, bringing his mindless fidgeting to a halt. “Ah Grillby. You really are a sweetheart.” Her smile was so genuine and kind that he felt that warm magic swirling in him again. “Listen. I don’t- as sad as this sounds- have much of a life here.” To Grillby’s absolute astonishment she put one of his hands directly in the center of her chest. Directly over her soul. “Feel. I’m telling you the truth.” Those big green eyes met his again. “You and Pyre are really the only people in town I talk to. I’m alone out here with only Critter for company and a short list of outfits to make for my few remaining customers. I love your daughter! She is such a treat, spending time with her at the bar is honestly one of the highlights of my day. And you…” Her gaze shifted down to his arm, still stretched out over to his hand on her chest. “You make me feel calm. Your food is amazing and talking to you during clean up at the end of the night… feels really nice, you know.”  
Grillby couldn’t help but notice the dusting of pink across her face, lighting up her freckles and pulling attention to her eyes. If he hadn’t been white before he was now. It was… honestly one of the sweetest things he had ever heard. No one had ever said that he made them calm. Usually it was the other way around. Being seemingly made from fire tended to make people tense and concerned for their well being. And he could feel her honestly radiating from her soul. It was practically yelling at him how much she really meant it all.  
He knew Pyre loved Laren just as much. Just the fact that they were here, in her home, where she had opened up about something she wanted to do, proved it. Honestly… Grillby thought their late night chats felt nice as well. They never talked about anything serious, but everything always felt so calm and open. He didn’t need to be on guard or worry. He hadn’t felt so at peace since….  
Grillby moved the hand on her chest up to cup her cheek, smiling with a happiness he didn’t even know he still possessed. “Laren, do you know about soul types?”  
She sputtered a small laugh. “Ye~s?”  
“Do you know what yours is?” She hummed an affirmative. “Can I take a guess that it is kindness?”  
Warm red painted her cheeks as she broke into the most dazzling grin he had seen. “You could.” Her hand reached up and gently covered his on her cheek. “But you would be wrong.”  
Finally, Grillby agreed to Pyre staying with Laren for a night, a surprise that Pyre screamed her excitement over when they told her. Grillby felt the warm tugging of his soul every time he saw that smile Laren fixed at his daughter. Honestly, he felt it every time he saw her kind expression, her gentle eyes, her warm smile. And he didn’t know what to do with the emotions building in his soul that he had believed long since buried.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God. Bless. Sans.

“Heya buddy.” Sans low voice called out across the bar the moment he walked through the door. Grillby had just set out two glasses and a brand new bottle of ketchup on the bar. Fresh burgers were grilling in the kitchen behind him, the bar was closed for the night, and Laren had picked up Pyre an hour prior. Grillby was beyond ready for this visit.  
“Good to see you, Sans.” The shorter skeleton monster had been a good friend for years. There was something about that calm, semi-permanent smile and his otherwise blase attitude that put people at ease. “How is Papyrus?”  
“Loving college.” He set a large intricately shaped bottle on the counter. It was a local rum from a distillery in the city. Grillby had loved the stuff when he lived there, but had to stick to something more main brand when he had moved. “Got himself a boyfriend too.”  
That was surprising. Papyrus had always been… odd about relationships. He had a dating manual of some form but any date he ever went on never really worked. Papyrus never felt a connection. Many people close to him had begun to think he might be asexual and were actually palnning to bring it up to him. “You seem… strangely okay with that.”  
Sans looked away and rubbed the back of his head. “Not gonna lie, Grilbz. I didn’t know how to handle it at first.” He shrugged. “But the guy is nice and treats Paps better than I ever expected someone too.” Grillby swung out for just a moment to grab the perfectly seared burgers. Once the plates were set down, he couldn’t help but pour a glass of the rum he had been craving since Sans’ last visit. “Plus, I can’t really hate the guy now that I’m dating his best friend.”  
Oh Grillby was so glad he hadn’t taken a drink yet. He began to cough as he choked on air, eyes growing wide behind his glasses. “What? You’re dating someone?!”  
Sans’ skull began to glow with embarrassed blue magic. “Yeah. I, uh, wanted to wait to tell you in case it ended up not really working out. We’ve been together two months now.”  
Grillby leaned back against the bar and watched him with real surprise. In all the time they had known each other, Grillby had never known Sans to date. He told flirtatious jokes now and again, especially after a few drinks. But he had never even heard of the skeleton liking anyone like that. To see him blushing and admitting to the length of their relationship was… astounding. “Thats… wow.”  
“Ah, Grillby, she’s so great.” He continued, gaze meeting the fire elementals. “The ironic part is she has a soul type of justice.”  
He snorted. “Justice for the judge?”  
“Awe, Grilbz, you beat me to it.” He looked down at his burger as he picked it up to take a bite. “But in all seriousness… I’m weirdly happy. Like… it’s been a long time since I’ve had any kind of hope for my life.”  
Truely, Grillby could see it. His friend had always walked into his bar with a smile and a joke to get the room going, but the moment it was closing time… Sans had struggled for so long with his mental health. He had been getting better slowly since coming to the surface, but it’s not something that just, poof, goes away. Shortly after monsters had earned their rights, Grillby had convinced him to start seeing a therapist. There was something weighing on him that he didn’t ever talk about.  
Not that Grillby could really talk on that matter.  
Looking at him now, Sans seemed so relaxed and his smile was genuine. Grillby passed him a shot and grinned. “I’m happy for you. Cheers.” One shot turned into two, then a third followed by a fourth before Grillby finally started to feel that buzz in his head. He still had something he needed to talk to Sans about after all. It could wait for a bit longer though. After all, this was the one time both Sans and Grillby were able to really cut loose.  
Sans turned on one of his playlists on low while Grillby pulled out a few beers for a slower descent into the drunken stupor they were aiming for. Eventually they would head up stairs for a movie and order in dinner. Cooking while drunk is a bad idea and should be avoided at all costs. As long as the evidence of the pizza delivery was cleaned up by the time Pyre was dropped off.  
Grillby avoided ordering take-out as much as possible with his daughter. He wanted to teach her how to cook well rounded and healthy meals at an early age, get her used to it so that when she grew older she would know how to keep herself healthy. But there were special times he called for a pizza or chinese. Usually when Pyre managed to get an A on a math test. Or it was one of their birthdays.  
The sound of Grillby’s phone vibrating on the counter broke him from his thoughts. It was a text message from Laren. Actually, a picture message. He opened it and immediately snorted, holding the phone out to Sans so he could see. Pyre stood with the biggest grin on her face, completely covered with scraps of fabric and draping even more scraps over a displeased Critter. He snorted as well. “Oh my God that’s awesome.” Sans cocked his head and furrowed his brow as Grillby took the phone back. “When did Tori get a cat?”  
‘She looks like she’s having fun. Keep me posted.’ He typed quickly before setting the phone aside. “She didn’t. Frisk was called away last minute so Pyre is staying with a friend from town.”  
“Not Doggo I hope.” Nothing against Doggo. But he didn’t think he would be the safest option to watch Pyre. She can be… a handful at times.  
“No. A human friend. She’s… making Pyre a dress actually.”  
“Uh… a dress for what?”  
Grillby took a deep breath and another glup from his bottle before pressing his finger tips to his temple. “That’s… something I wanted to talk to you about. Apparently Pyre got into an argument with a few girls at school the other day. As a result of that argument… She wants to join a beauty pageant happening soon.”  
Sans’ eyelights shrank considerably as he sat up a little straighter. “Oh, shit.”  
“Yeah.” He put his head on the counter. “I told her I would think about it.”  
“Damn Grillbz.”  
“The friend, Laren, thinks I should let her do it.” He slid his arm up under his head and looked to the side, through the dark glass of the beer bottle he had recently finished. “And the problem is, I agree with her argument on the situation. Telling Pyre she can’t do the pageant out of fear she’ll be targeted and hurt by racist parents is telling her she can’t do certain things because of her race. That she has to be afraid and second guess everything she does in her life. I don’t want to do that to her. I want her to grow up being confident and showing the world what a strong monster woman is capable of. But I’m so terrified, Sans.”  
It was quiet besides the low music still playing from Sans’ phone. The skeleton tipped back his bottle and looked through the glass. Yeah. He understood the fear. Sans had been terrified when his baby brother came through the door one day, announcing he had applied for college classes. His first thought had been of how many people would try to hurt him, try to force him to quit classes to keep the university ‘pure’.  
Papyrus was such a kind and innocent soul. How far would he go for someone calling him friend? But Paps had surprised him. Had surprised everyone. He stood up for himself and for other monsters. He quickly made a new group of friends containing both monsters and humans. Any time someone tried to bring him down he just killed them with kindness and kept on his path.  
Pyre reminded him of Papyrus sometimes. She was a sass queen, but she had her head on right and stayed optimistic. Pyre is a fighter. Sans rested his head on his fist and looked out the window to his left. “Grillby, you know I can’t tell you what to do. You’re my best friend, I watched Pyre grow up.” He looked back down to the bottle in front of him. “It sounds like she has support, however small it might be. That gives her more of a fighting chance than another monster child might have. But other than that, I want you to think about what kind of a personality Pyre has. Whose personality she has. Do you really think she would let racist comments and actions stop her from proving a point?”  
Grillby was floored. He was right, of course. Pyre wouldn’t let anything stop her from proving she could be part of this. She’s too proud, too stubborn. Too much like Igni. Every day he sees more and more of her mother in her words and actions. She talks back, but knows just what to say to get away with it. She has a quick mind that fuels that sharp tongue. She fights back when she knows something isn’t right. Grillby knows it could get her into a lot of trouble, especially on the surface. But would he really want her to be more meak and passive?  
His phone vibrated again and Grillby opened the message. It was another picture. Laren held up two different bows, one a light purple and the other a greenish blue. Pyre stuck her tongue out at the camera from over Laren’s shoulder. The caption beneath it said ‘Which one?’ Sans leaned across the counter to see as well. “Damn Grillbz, didn’t know you went for redheads.” He teased.  
“No. Don’t start.”  
“What? She’s cute. Pyre likes her. You obviously trust her enough to watch the kid. What’s the problem?”  
The problem was… It just was. Grillby wasn’t ready to unload that baggage just yet. But Sans could see it. Watching Grillby’s eyes lower as he stared at the picture on his phone, he knew what the problem was. Any other time of year he might bring it up, coax his friend into finally unloading and dealing with his grief better. But Igni’s anniversary was only a month away. Bringing it up now would hurt him more than help him.  
Sans sighed and got up from the bar, patting his friend's shoulder. “Come on buddy. Let's move this party upstairs. The rest of the night passed much like it normally would. They ordered pizza from the local place just up the hill. It was a monster friendly establishment on the down low so Grillby made sure to tip the delivery kid a decent amount. Sans had turned on some god awful comedy that was mostly sex and drug jokes. But being as far gone as Grillby was at that point he didn’t mind the crude humor.  
Laren continued to send pictures messages throughout the evening. Grillby was pretty sure he and Sans had sent one in return at one point.  
Laren: _What?! I wanna get drunk with you guys! _  
__Grillbz: _How about next time when Tori can watch Pyre?_  
Laren: _You promise?_ ;)  
Grillbz: _Ooh, a winky face. You’re playing with fire there friend._  
Grillbz: _We can do more than just driuhvoibcyve._  
Grillbz: _*Blurry picture message*_  
Grillbz: _Please ignore the last few texts. Sans stole my phone._  
Laren: _XD Oh my god, this is awesome._

Grillby woke up the next day to far too much sunlight hitting his face. The slight pulse in his head told him he went a little too far the night before. But if he was feeling it he could only imagine Sans’ state. He had to have drunk at least three times as much as Grillby had. It was a chore just reaching out to check the time on his phone. Not even noon. New record. Grillby sat up and stretched, his flames popping wildly and flicking different shades as his magic took stock of just how messed up Grillby still was.  
Sans snored like a freight train as he padded into the living room. Good god, how can two people make this much of a mess in one night? Grillby sighed and opted to head into the kitchen to make coffee before worrying about that. The smell of the coffee quickly roused Sans and they spent a few minutes sipping their drinks while comparing hangovers. It might not have looked like Sans did much during the cleaning portion of the morning, but it went a lot faster than it would have if Grillby had been picking up by himself.  
Sans took a seat at the bar, the same spot he would have normally underground. He counted down and Doggo walked in. Him and Sans did a little catching up before Red Bird walked in and joined the chat. As everyone settled into their respective spots the cycle Grillby loved so much began again. Doggo needed a drink, Sans began telling a pun loaded story that filled the bar with laughter, Red Bird stepped out for a smoke, Grillby loaded the dishwasher.  
The gentle hum of the dishwasher is what really settled him into the mundane routine headspace. Red Bird came back in, he asked for a refill. Doggo needed another drink, Sans started another story. Several hours passed like that. Perfect, predictable, clock-work. Grillby laughed along after one of Sans’ stories and checked his watch. Any other school day, he would expect Toriel to drop off Pyre in twenty minutes. But Laren was picking her up today and tomorrow. So that was a variable in his routine.  
It didn’t bother him. Something a little different now and again felt good. But there was that dad mind that didn’t like not knowing when his daughter would be home. “Hey, Grillby!” He looked up. Sans was smiling at him with Doggo draping an arm over his boney shoulder. “Is there any of that rum left? I made the mistake of telling this old dog I brought some.” Doggo barked out a laugh.  
“I think there’s enough for a few shots.” Grillby said, reaching under the bar for the bottle. If he had to guess, there was just enough for about four or five shots. He quickly and expertly poured two shots and slid them over. Sans shook his head.  
“Come on, Grillbz! Pour a drink!”  
Grillby very rarely drank during hours. He very rarely drank for that matter. Usually that was all saved for Sans’ visits. One night of pure drunken fun once every three or four months. That being said… Sans’ visit wasn’t over. And Pyre wasn’t home yet. Why the hell not? Grillby poured another shot and raised the glass to touch his friends. All three touched the counter before they were shot back.  
Doggo chuckled. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Nothing like a taste of home.”  
Sans snorted. “I don’t think we can really call Ebott City home.”  
“Well why not?” Doggo took the seat next to Sans and tossed the shot glass back and forth between his paws. “Snowden was ‘home’, sure. But real home, that’s the first place we settled when we were set free. The underground was our prison, kid. Not home.”  
Sans and Grillby glanced at each other as they digested the old dog's words. To be fair… Doggo wasn’t wrong. However, Grillby had never really seen the underground as a prison. It never escaped his mind that they were all trapped, that he could never see the rest of the world or know what the elements really felt like. But the underground was his home. It was where he met Igni, where he fell in love and started his family. It was the same for many monsters.  
They made their lives with what they had been given. And as far as he could tell, it was very similar on the surface. Not everyone had the ability to see the world in the first place on the surface. One could say, humans were trapped as well, just not in the same sense that monsters had been. Grillby opened his mouth to say as much when the door to the bar opened and Pyre jogged in. “Uncle Sans!”  
She ran straight into his waiting arms and squealed as he lifted her and spun before setting her on an empty bar stool. “Hey kiddo! Long time no see!”  
Laren stepped up to the bar quickly after that, an odd expression on her face. Grillby set an apple juice box in front of her and leaned on the counter. “Thank you, again. I hope she was good for you.”  
“Oh, Pyre was a dream at my place.” She leveled the young girl with a look and she shrank in her seat. “Do you want to tell your Dad, or should I?”  
Something dropped in his stomach as he turned to his daughter. “What happened?” Pyre avoided his gaze, squirming in her seat.  
Laren sighed. “Her teacher wanted me to tell you that she refuses to participate in class. While her homework and test grades are above average, her participation grade counts for more. Continued refusal will end with her having to repeat the first grade.”  
Grillby turned to his daughter. “Star Shine. Why aren’t you participating in class?”  
She fidgeted for a moment, still not meeting his gaze. Another prompt was all it took for the young girl to sigh. “The teacher treats us like such babies. Every question is asked with that stupid tone and every time I give a right answer, she talks down to me! I gave the right answer!”  
“That’s not an excuse, Pyre. You still need to participate in class.”  
“Well maybe I don’t want to.” She grumbled.  
“Excuse me?”  
Pyre instantly shrunk at the tone Grillby used. He took a deep breath before reigning in his emotions to speak in an even tone again. Nothing good came from screaming at children. “Pyre, I understand that it can be frustrating to be patronized like that. But you are going to face that a lot in your life. You have to be able to learn to deal with it and push through it.” It was quiet for a moment. No one wanted to speak next. Grillby sighed and ran his hand through Pyre’s flaming hair. “Go put your school stuff away. We’ll talk about this later.”  
She got up without a word and took her bag to the side door where the stairs lead to their apartment. He watched her go every step. “She’s not telling me something…” He murmured the moment she was out of ear shot.  
“I got that feeling too.” Laren said, sliding into the now empty barstool next to Sans. “I tried asking her in the car but she wouldn’t speak.”  
Grillby ran a hand through his flames. “That’s not like her.” He turned back to see Laren also starring after Pyre at the now closed door. “But she was good for you?”  
“Yeah. Didn’t argue or complain. We had a great time, actually.”  
“Now that sounds more like Pyre.” Sans stated before taking a drink from a near-by ketchup bottle.  
Laren looked a little green as she turned just in time to see it. She swallowed and forced out a grin. “Sans I assume?”  
“You assume correct. Put’er there.” He stuck out his hand and Laren quickly took it, face scrunching as the sound of a whoopie cushion filled the bar. Doggo and Red Bird both tossed their heads back with laughter.  
Laren turned Sans hand to see the offending joke. “I didn’t even know they made these this small…”  
“You’d be amazed what you can find when you aren’t really looking.”  
Laren smiled that soft and serene smile he always loved to see. She glanced around the bar, at Doggo and Red Bird still chuckling into their drinks, at Pyre who had just skipped back into the room, and finally over to Grillby before her gaze dropped to the juice box he had set before her earlier. “Yeah, you’re right.” She said, cheeks slightly more flushed than normal. “You’re completely right.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hate racists, yes I do. I hate racists, how bout you? We getting into the first bit of trouble here folks. Poor little Pyre!

A new rhythm began in the days that followed Sans’ visit. After having a long sit down with Pyre about her participation grade, Grillby gave her the green light to turn in her freshly signed pageant permission forms. On the condition that she stayed true to her word about doing better. If he received another notice about her not participating he would pull her out of it. It had been… a long time since Pyre had hugged him as hard and as long as she had that day.  
He really had underestimated just how important this thing was to her. That being said, Pyre had immediately called Laren to inform her of the decision. So, even after Toriel had returned to town, Laren continued to pick Pyre up from school, taking her to her place for a few hours after school to go over the rules and regulations of the pageant. It was also when they worked on homework and the dress. Apparently, Laren had started over twice.   
The dress, she said, needs to be perfect. Even when sitting at the bar after bringing Pyre home she was flipping through magazines and making notes and sketches in that old notebook. “Something shiny… no. A lace overlay. Yes, perfect.” He had caught her muttering things of that nature many times as she sat at the bar and drank the apple juice he had started to buy in gallon jugs just for her. Laren would look up every so often and ask Grillby a preference question. Usually he wasn’t really able to give the best answers considering he didn’t know a whole lot on womens dresses.  
It was just four days after Sans’ visit. Friday. Grillby knew Pyre wouldn’t be home until much later that day due to a meeting at school about the pageant. He had asked Laren if she was willing to take her and received an excited ‘of course’. It was nice. Seeing Pyre spend so much time with Laren honestly warmed his soul. Most of what they would do together… he had once dreamed of seeing her and Igni doing together. Laren would tickle Pyre in retaliation of some sassy comment she had made, his daughter screeching in laughter. And he couldn’t help but imagine if it was his wife in her place, playing so happily with their child.  
Grillby would always scold himself afterwards. It wasn’t fair to Laren when he did that. Did he believe Igni would have interacted with Pyre in much the same way Laren was? He did. Though, he also believed he would have been twice as stressed whenever he caught the two whispering to each other, only to receive an innocent ‘Nothing’ as a response when questioned. Igni was a devious woman. At least Grillby took solace in knowing anything Pyre got up to with his friend was moderately tame.  
Doggo had decided to sit at the bar that night, excited to talk about some odd thing his grandson was up to at his school in the city. He let out a bark of laughter and slung back the rest of his drink. One of Grillby’s part-timers, a rabbit monster named Lucy, was busy wiping down the tables near the door. He figured Pyre and Laren would be walking in soon. The meeting was set to end at seven.  
“Where’s that pup’a yers?” Doggo asked, ears twitching as he listened to the room. “And that fiery broad you been eyin’?” He added with a low chuckle.  
Grillby rolled his eyes at the old dogs antics. “Pyre and Laren are at a meeting for the pageant.”  
“Ah, I can’t wait ta see precious li’l Pyre all dolled up, showing them human kids what a real monster can do.”  
Grillby put away a few clean glasses and set a fresh drink on the bar for Doggo. “Laren has been handling all of the pageant matters. I’ll end up being just as surprised as you.”  
“Oh, I just know Pyre is going to be the cutest little girl up there!” Lucy gushed as she joined them at the bar. “Especially if Laren is helping! That woman is a wonder with fabric!”  
Grillby couldn’t deny that. It seemed that every day Pyre was coming home with a new article of clothing that she would proudly model for him. Everything Laren had made was amazing. He wondered how she was able to do these things, let alone so fast and on her own. The door of the bar opened with the chime of the bell over head, but Grillby didn’t hear the chime. The only thing he could hear were the miserable, muffled sobs of his little girl.  
Pyre was settled in Larens arms where she weeped openly into her shoulder, arms tight around the woman's neck. Laren smoothed her hand down her back and whispered gently to her. Her gaze snapped up when Grillby rushed to her side in a panic. “It’s okay, she’s not hurt. Just sad.” Her hand gently pushed at a few licks of Pyre’s flaming green hair that was covering her face. Pyre shook with the force of her sobs. “Yeah, I know sweetie.” Laren cooed. “Big emotions hurt. But we’re going to figure this out, okay? It’s going to be alright.”  
“What happened?” Grillby asked, hand smoothing down Pyre’s flames. The flicked wildly with her emotions.  
“It’s…” Laren sighed. “Can we put her to bed? I’ll tell you later.”  
Grillby nodded. “Lucy, watch the bar.” He led her up the stairs to the apartment and opened the door to Pyre’s room. Laren was so gentle as she set her down on the bed and knelt before her.  
She continued to sooth her as Grillby found a clean pair of pj’s for her to change into. Slowly, Prye’s cries become nothing more than miserable whines and hic-ups. Grillby helped his daughter change and Laren pulled back the covers. Seamlessly, they put the young monster to bed and soothed her into a tired and calm state. “Daddy…” She whined at one point.  
Grillby pet the top of her head. “What’s up star shine?”  
“I’m sorry.”  
It was so quiet and mumbled into her blankets. “What for?” But she was out, pushed into sleep from the exhaustion her crying had caused. Grillby let out a breath and gently kissed her forehead before joining Laren in the hallway. She looked troubled to say the least. “Laren?”  
Surprise jolted through him the moment she pressed her forehead to his shoulder. Laren looked so tired and weary. It was completely different from how she had been just that morning when she had picked Pyre up for school. Then, she had been bright and smiling, lifting Pyre into a hug and placing a big smooch on her cheek. He carefully wrapped her up in his arms. While burning- no pun intended- to know what put them both in such a state, he realised she needed just a moment of soothing herself.  
Honestly… it was soothing for him as well. Laren pressed to him, her hair tickling his chin and arms. Just the way her body pressed back with each breath was calming. He took a deep breath and nearly sighed at the scent of vanilla coming off her hair. His soul was doing some form of gymnastics in his chest and by the time she pulled away he was almost certain his face was white.  
“They won’t let her participate.” Laren finally said as they moved into the living room. Grillby nearly stumbled.  
“What? Why?”  
She sat heavily on the couch with her head in her hands. “The pageant runs through the school. They said because of Pyre’s participation grade she can’t participate. She has a week to get the grade up or they won’t let her join.”  
Grillby felt sick to his stomach. “But she’s sworn up and down that she’s been doing better.”  
“I know! And God’s I believe her because she just looks and sounds so sure every time she says it! Urg! Grillby, I wanted to hit something at that meeting.” Her fists balled up to emphasize her words. Grillby took a seat next to her as she explained the goings on of the meeting. “From the moment we walked in that classroom there were so many eyes on her. Hatred! I swear I saw a Dad spit in our direction, but Pyre was so sure and confident and she walked right past all of it. So proud.”  
Laren took a deep breath and grabbed hold of Grillby’s hand. He intertwined their fingers and squeezed, earning at least the ghost of a smile. “So, the teacher comes in. Low and behold, the teacher in charge of the pageant is Pyre’s teacher, the same one who told me about her grade. And she just has this look, this absolute haughty and smug grin and it only grows the more she goes over the rules and everything we would need to know. Then right there, at the very end of the meeting, in front of all these parents and kids, she announces that Pyre can’t participate because her participation grade has gotten so low in the past week it makes her ineligible.”  
His grip on her hand tightened as he took in the story. Grillby felt his magic spitting, growing hotter as anger built. “So, I look down to Pyre and say ‘You said you were doing better’. She looked so heartbroken Grillby and all she could do was cry and scream ‘I am, I am!’. And this woman had the audacity to throw her grade book on the desk in front of me and grin. Like ‘look, I’m right and you’re wrong’. I have never wanted to hit someone in the jaw so much as I did then.”  
“Hey, hey.” Grillby pulled his hand free to put an arm around her shoulders. She was shaking. “Take a few breaths, you’re getting worked up.”  
She did, though it took a fair bit before she really began to calm down. “I’m sorry. I just- How can people be so evil as to take that much joy in breaking a little girl's heart?” Tears built at the corners of her eyes and Grillby pulled her into his embrace once more. He knew things like this would happen. He had just… hoped. At least hoped that the teachers wouldn’t take hits at her grades to keep her from the pageant.  
Did Grillby believe the teacher was lying about Pyre’s participation to do this? Oh you better believe it. If there is one thing his daughter is not, it is a liar. When she says she’s participating, she’s participating. Saying her grade has gotten worse in the week? It’s obvious what the vindictive woman is doing. He’s not under any guise to that fact. But they can’t prove the teacher is being discriminatory against Pyre.  
Laren sighed and the breath tickled at the flaming skin on his neck. “We have to help Pyre get into the pageant, Grillby. She’s been… so excited. Discussing the dress, what she wants to do for the talent portion, doing fake question and answer sessions with me.”  
Grillby completely agreed. He might not have been completely on board with the pageant in the beginning, but damn them if they thought he was going to let them get away with hurting his star shine. They just needed proof. An idea tickled at the back of Grillby’s mind as he ran his fingers through Laren’s hair. She so rarely wore it down, but now it was spilling free in waves over her shoulders. The strands slipped across his flames so smoothly as that idea manifested into a plan. Grillby hummed. “Laren… you wouldn’t happen to have a tape recorder, would you?”

The weekend was… painful to say the least. Pyre never managed to bounce back from what had happened at the meeting and spent the weekend in a funk. Her green flames danced lazily and didn’t burn nearly as bright as they normally did. Grillby was worried for his daughter. But… if the plan he and Laren had come up with managed to work she would have that spark back by Tuesday.  
Remain hopeful. Laren came by Saturday and Sunday both to try to cheer up the girl. A few smiles, some laughs. But nothing like they were used to. Maybe it had been a mistake to let her join. She hadn’t been a part of it for more than fifteen minutes at that meeting and those racists had turned his daughter into a shell of a monster. But he knew better. He just had to remain hopeful.  
Monday rolled around and Grillby went through the normal motions of getting Pyre ready for school. Laren had offered to give her a ride again and would be downstairs soon. Before that though… “Pyre, come here a second.” He knelt down and held out his arms for his daughter. She shuffled into them and he hugged her as tightly as he could without hurting her. “Listen, I know the past few days have been hard. But I need you to try extra hard at school today. And if you can be a good girl and do as your teacher says today, I’ll order a pizza for dinner tonight and invite Laren to join us.”  
That finally brought some light back into her flames. Pyre grinned and nodded vigorously. “Okay, Daddy!” He ruffled her flaming hair and went with her down the stairs. Instead of going through the first door that led to the bar, they went through the far one that opened up to the lot behind the building.   
Laren was already waiting beside her car when they exited. Pyre immediately ran to her and threw arms around her for a hug. Laren was all smiles as she took her bookbag and opened the back door for her. Grillby watched from the door as she carefully dropped something small and black into the front pocket of Pyre’s bag.

Grillby was easily having one of the best days at the bar as many monsters from town had swarmed his place after hearing about what had happened on Friday. His part-timers were thrown for a real loop since the most they ever usually handled were two or three tables at a time. Every table was full for a good two hours before finally settling down again in the afternoon. Doggo and Red Bird were unsure what to do with some many people around and decided to joke about it heartily once they were the only ones left.  
“It’s official, Red! We turned this bar inta a happenin’ place!” Doggo crowed, lifting his drink in a salute.  
“Can’t blame them when the drinks are this good!” They clapped their glasses together and drank with gusto.  
Grillby laughed along. Today alone would pay the rent on the place. A few more days like this and Grillby just might be able to replace that janky cooler in the back. The door opened as they laughed their cares away and Pyre bounced right up to the bar.  
Doggo laughed as her motion caught his attention. “Hey there, pup! How was school?”  
Pyre beamed. “I answered all the questions my teacher asked me and did everything I was told to do and one of the girls from my class, a nice one, not a mean one, asked to play with me at recess and now we’re best friends!”   
Doggo and Red Bird both chuckled and congratulated her as Laren stepped up to them with Pyre’s bag in hand. She smiled at him. “Pyre, why don’t go upstairs and watch cartoons while I talk to Laren about what we discussed this morning.” He gave an over exaggerated wink and the young girl dashed off with more pep in her step than she had had in days.  
The moment she was gone the four adults snapped into business mode. Girllby had informed both of his regulars about the plan after the rush had ended, and both wanted to be there when they went over what they had found. Laren pulled the digital recorder from the bag and set it on the bar before taking a seat. She let out a slow breath. “Not gonna lie, Grillby. I think I need something stronger than apple juice for this.”  
In all the time he had known Laren, not once had she asked for alcohol. He was proud to mix her an apple flavored drink with enough booze to light a small fire. She took a sip before pressing a few buttons on the side of the recorder and playing the audio from the beginning of Pyre’s school day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Sorry about that. It's really hard to write two different kinds of Grillby's at the same time. But Light a fire is basically done, so I can work on this again! Yay!

James Pickett really hated his job. Sure, being the principal of the same elementary school he himself had attended didn’t sound like the worst plan, but God did it suck worse than he thought. Being a part of administration meant he didn’t have to interact with the students much. Usually only during disciplinary meetings. No. He had to deal with something much worse. Their entitled parents.  
It was a constant and relentless flow of emails and phone calls from parents bitching and moaning because they thought their teacher was being too strict, didn’t like what was being taught, or just plain nonsense that was out of his control. A lot of these parents were part of the PTA and actually had some sway, but most of the time he just told them politely to fuck off. It was especially bad with the pageant starting it’s annual bullshit now.  
The number of calls he had gotten over the weekend because one of the monster students had shown up to the informational meeting was maddening! He knew this town. He had grown up in this town. James knew better than anyone just how racist the fourth generation pricks here could be. But to actually call the principle of the school and demand he keep the pageant “pure”? Fuck him.  
It was a normal and quiet Tuesday morning. James had decided to treat himself that morning and gotten a large coffee from the McDonald’s down the road as well as a few donuts from Casey’s. The door to his office was closed as he usually kept it while going through emails and double checking his event schedule. Not much in the exciting category usually happened in this small town, but it was enough to keep him busy at least.  
The first bell rang that signified the beginning of classes. Another regular day. He had just taken a hearty sip of his coffee when a polite knock sounded at his door. James hadn’t seen any meetings on his schedule for the day… “Come in.” He called.  
A groan built in the back of his throat that he masterfully pushed down. Parents… Wait… No. He knew that woman. He had gone to school with her. The monster behind her though was a mystery. The rather tall fellow burned with literal orange flames that somehow gave him a toned look. Boo. Even fire has a nicer figure than he does…  
“Jimmy Pickett! How the hell are ya?” Laren said with mock enthusiasm.  
“Jesus, Laren. I didn’t think you had a kid here.”  
She shrugged. “She’s not mine, but she’s still ‘mine’.”  
The fire man stepped up. “My daughter, Pyre Tine is in Ms. Keen’s first grade class.”  
James nodded his head and gestured for them to take the empty seats before his desk. He knew her. She was the cutest little thing he had seen in years with a mouth on backwards. She had found herself in his office only once, and it was for a self defense reason. “What can I do for you Mr. Tine?”  
“Pyre’s teacher has informed me that her participation grade is failing and keeping her from the pageant coming up. And it only started going down when Pyre expressed interest in joining the pageant.” His voice crackled like actual fire! This guy was awesome!  
James nodded yet again, seeing where this conversation was going. Well, if he ever had to pick a teacher that would purposefully manipulate grades to keep a monster child down, it would be that bitch, Keen. But still… “I understand, Mr. Tine, but a low participation grade alone isn’t enough to make her ineligible on our district's grading scale. Not only that, but I would need evidence to even ask for an investigation from the superintendent.”  
Laren’s brow furrowed. “She told me last week the participation grade was worth half of her grade.”  
He had to laugh at that. “If we did that we would have so many legal battles over an unfair system for kids on the spectrum! Let me just pull up Pyre’s grade sheet and we’ll see what’s going on.” The online grade book was a God send. When it worked, that is. He was able to get to Ms. Keen’s class pretty easily and clicked on Pyre’s file. Huh… James sat forward a bit on his chair and tried to make sense of what he was seeing.   
There were no grade entries for Pyre Tine. She had a full zero percent. He backed out of her page and clicked on a random student from the same class. That student had all of their grades posted. They weren’t good grades, but they were there. Okay, now he was getting a little concerned. Ms. Keen’s class was one with a student aide from the college the next town over. He wondered just what she might be willing to share with a full-time job lined up once she graduated…  
“Something is weird about this, but I assure you we will look into the problem and handle it in time for that pageant.”  
Grillby held up the small digital recorder. “We sort of already looked into it.”  
James eyed the small black device and felt the sweat bead on the back of his neck. Oh no. If they came in and felt he needed to hear a recording… He met Grillby’s white hot eyes and nodded. Every word. It didn’t take long. They had the recording queued up to play at the beginning of the abuse. Shortly after the start of the school day. What James heard him made him nauseous and he could clearly see angry tears building in Laren’s eyes.  
Ms. Keen used every bit of abuse she could, ranging from simple to just brutal and uncalled for attacks on the poor kid. There was one moment where Ms. Keen had asked the class a question and apparently Pyre had raised her hand to answer. “Oh, little miss beauty queen wants to answer? Well, go ahead your majesty.” She mocked.  
“It’s Washington D.C.!” Pyre’s little voice answered confidently.  
There was a moment of silence. “Why are all of you monsters just so stupid?”  
“But I’m right.”  
“Oh? And what makes you think you know better than me?”  
“Because that’s what you said yesterday! You said it was Washington D.C. and I even wrote it down so my friend Laren-”  
“Oh my God, you talk too much. No one likes someone who doesn’t know when to shut up Pyre. Kids, do you like when people keep talking and talking?”  
A chorus of no’s. It progressed much like that, until what they could only believe was recess, when the recorder in her bag picked up a conversation between Ms. Keen and the student teacher. The student teacher was obviously uncomfortable and tried to end the conversation multiple times only to be steam rolled by Keen. She was caught admitting that she was keeping Pyre out of the pageant. Only human girls were allowed to participate. SHe was caught saying how she didn’t believe humans should have to go to school with ‘those things’ or use the same bathrooms or even eat in the same restaurants.  
She all but admitted that segregation should never have ended and monsters could have just used the same things as ‘those dirty negros’. James was white as a sheet by the time Grillby turned off the recording. He couldn’t believe this had been happening in his school. How long exactly had this been going on? James rubbed at his temple and reached for the intercom phone in a daze, punching in the number for Ms. Keen’s class. “Sorry to bother you, Willa, could you send Miss Hosick to my office for a moment?”  
Andrea Hosick was the student teacher who had been obviously uncomfortable with Ms. Keen’s talk. A hand covered his on the desk as he continued to look at his desk. Laren gave him a gentle smile. “Thanks, Jimmy.”  
He smiled back. James wasn’t doing anything beyond the scope of his job, but knew Laren was grateful just for trusting them long enough to listen to the recording. He would have anyway since it was Laren. After what she had done for him in high school… There was a quiet knock on the door and Miss Hosick entered.  
Upon seeing Grillby and Laren there she grew incredibly nervous. “It’s okay, Andrea. You’re not in trouble.” James said. “Mr. Tine and Miss O’Shea came in with some concerns for a student in your class. Pyre.” The young woman grew pale. “Andrea, have you ever witnessed Ms. Keen being rude or unfair to Pyre? Ever heard her make racists remarks?”  
It didn’t take long. Tears fell in waterfalls down her cheeks and sobs ripped from her throat. Both Laren and Grillby jumped from their chairs and guided her to sit. “I’m so sorry!” She choked out between sobs. “Ms. Keen threatened to tell the university I was unfit to teach if I said anything! She’s horrible to that poor little girl!”  
Andrea spent the next twenty minutes spilling her guts about everything that teacher had been doing to, not only Pyre, but also the one child of color in the class and two who came from poorer circumstances. She was a bully, a tyrant. If she said they were going to fail, they were going to fail. Keen kept a second grade book, her ‘true’ grade book as she called it that showed the grades she gave them, not the ones they earned. The other was just for show.  
At this point, James had all he needed to go over the superintendents head. He asked that Andrea type a witness statement in the library immediately and send it to him. And also not to worry about Ms. Keen. The door closed once more and James met Grillby’s eyes. “Mr. Tine, You have no idea how sorry I am that this happened to your daughter. I will do everything in my power to make this right and see that nothing like this ever happens again. This school does not condone racism of any kind.”  
Grillby nodded to him, feeling his hands unclench finally after having to listen to that awful recording yet again. “Thank you. It means a lot that you’re taking this so seriously.”  
A weight settled in James' chest as he briefly glanced over to Laren. Of course he would take this seriously. How could anyone not… The picture of his wife was a prominent point in his peripherals, but he avoided looking at it while they remained in his office. “I understand if you want to take your daughter home for the day.”  
It wasn’t a bad idea. There was a good few hours before he would normally open the bar, Laren made her own schedule. He could take them both out to forget some of this awfulness. Maybe even catch an afternoon movie. Pyre had been begging to go to the Orpheum to see the new Trolls movie…. He nodded. “Yes. If that’s okay.”  
James nodded and picked up the intercom phone once more. Two minutes later, Pyre was running into her fathers arms in delighted surprise. “Daddy! What are you doing here?”  
“Taking my two favorite girls to see a movie.” He answered, catching Laren’s surprised face.  
“A movie?” She asked, a pleased smile spreading across her face.  
Pyre gasped. “Trolls?” When Grillby nodded she cheered and jumped up and down, running up to pull on Laren’s hand and chatter excitedly about the first movie as they left the school.

It was around four-thirty that same day Grillby received a call from James Pickett. Ms. Keen had ‘taken an early retirement’ and would no longer be Pyre’s teacher. Nor was she in charge of the pageant after that day. So much tension left his body all at once he wondered how he didn’t simply collapse on the ground. But he did get comments on the ever present smile on his face the rest of the night.  
Pyre told anyone willing to listen about her date with Grillby and Laren that day. It had been exactly what they needed after the emotional rollercoaster of a week. But now, it was handled. Pyre could learn in peace. She could participate in the pageant. Though a different ball of anxiety rolled around in his stomach at that idea. After Pyre was put to bed, Grillby returned to the bar to finish closing up.  
Laren was the only one who remained. She watched him with curious eyes as he had asked her to stay an hour before. When he dropped into the seat next to her and leaned against the bar, she couldn’t help but snort. “You look like a deflated balloon.”  
“I feel like a deflated balloon.” He mumbled in reply. “This whole thing took five years off me, I swear.”  
Laren leaned her head on his shoulder. “I feel that. My fist was curled so tight during that whole meeting I have marks from my nails.” Grillby chuckled and put an arm around her waist. They were quiet. The only sound was a soft song playing from the jukebox in the corner as they simply sat there and decompressed.  
Something had struck him earlier in the meeting. Something Laren had said. ‘She’s not mine, but she’s still ‘mine’.’ And there had been an odd tension between Laren and James. It wasn’t a bad tension. But it was like a gratefulness, a hushed story between them. Grillby decided it was time he started learning more about her.  
“So, what’s the story with Jimmy? You seemed to know each other.”  
Laren shrugged. “Small town high school. Everyone knows a little bit about everyone. Can’t say we were friends, but I helped him and a girl out of a potentially dangerous situation close to graduation. He’s just grateful.”  
“Potentially dangerous situation?” He asked, raising his fiery brow.  
“Okay, you’ve seen the racism in this town.” She started. “When we were in high school, a new family moved to town a few months before graduation. It’s important to mention this family was black. People were down right rude to these people, talking about them at the store, calling them names as they drove by them on the street. Their daughter often found her school supplies ruined and in the trash. Well… Jimmy thought she was pretty and asked her out.” Grillby winced and flinched as he realized where this story was going. “Yep, you guessed it. A lot of people in town didn’t take that well. I just so happened to be walking by the library one day when I overheard a group of ‘good boys’ say they were going to pull them aside and ‘teach them a lesson’. I left a note in Jimmy’s locker and told him and his girl to avoid the place they were planning on attacking them. Continued to do so all the way up to graduation.”  
Good God. People in this town were planning on attacking those kids? For no other reason then they dared to be in love? For what purpose? There was no lesson there to be taught. “I will say-” Laren continued. “That the younger generation isn’t nearly as bad. Still racist little shit heads, but they’re mostly talk and will actually listen if you talk. I have hope for a few of them.”  
It was quiet again as Grillby took in that bit of information. The growth of generations is inevitable. The rules of the world are constantly changing. What was true for him when he was young was no longer a thing for his daughter. The same could be said for these humans. And the older generation wants to hold onto the rules they grew up with, force them into continued being. But their kids will either grow with the new rules, or remain stagnant and grow angry when changes come around.  
Laren has hope for them. Honestly, so does Grillby. He had met a few of his daughters' school friends and was impressed at how easily they accepted the explanations of why Pyre isn’t hot to touch or why they can touch water. Even if they one day left this town, those kids would always remember having and playing with a monster friend, knowing how monsters really are. And this was true in many schools now. Monsters were branching out from the city slowly.  
But there was still that odd thing she had said to Jimmy… “What was that claim you made in the meeting today? About Pyre.”  
“Ah.” Laren’s cheeks flashed a gentle pink as she sat forward in her seat, grabbing the glass of apple juice he had poured her before putting Pyre to bed. “That was just… you know… me telling Jimmy that Pyre is important to me.” Her not meeting his gaze was somewhat telling. “It’s like saying… How do I actually explain it… It’s saying Pyre is not my family. But she might as well be. I would do anything to protect her. She’s important to me.” With her turned away, Grillby wasn’t exactly sure if he heard her right… Not when she said, “You are too.”  
He felt his fire flicker and heat grow in his face. Now Grillby wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself. As much it scared him, he had noticed his feelings toward Laren… changing. Grillby was excited to see her each day, eager to talk to her. Watching her with Pyre made him happy beyond measure. The idea that she might feel the same way was… Wonderful. But at the same time he was nauseous. Grillby knew better than to believe he was actually betraying Igni by having these feelings. Especially so long after her death.  
In fact, he was certain she would be yelling at him right now to accept his feelings and talk to Laren about them. But he just couldn’t get it out of his head that his feelings for someone other than his wife were growing. Grillby’s hand on her waist began to shake and he opened his mouth to speak. But before he was able to get a word out, she slipped from the seat and stood, stretching nonchalantly. “I should probably get home. See you tomorrow.”  
Just like that, Laren was gone. Grillby sat in a stunned and confused silence for a moment longer before sighing and standing up as well. He felt like his extended silence after her pseudo confession must have made her feel awkward. Damn it. Once in the living room, Grillby stood before the picture of his dear Igni, only illuminated by his own fire. The immortal smile across her face of blue fire had always brought him some comfort. Now it just confused him more. The weight settled in his chest and he idly rubbed at it before turning and heading to bed.


End file.
